When you have a farm, suddenly so many terms make sense. Like calling someone a chicken or a pig. You can see why, after you have a chicken and a pig.
Try having a goat.
You know, of the male persuasion.
So many figures of speech are explained.
I thought Rhett and Eclipse might have catatonic seizures after they arrived on our farm. We put them temporarily in the goat pen. They could see–and even lick–the girls through the fence. It drove them insane. These young bucks haven’t seen girls before, but they know what they are and they want them. Bad.
Rhett and Eclipse are both permanent residents at Stringtown Rising Farm, to answer one of several questions following yesterday’s post. Rhett was originally intended to come along with Eclipse as a wether. I thought he was related to Clover and Nutmeg. Turns out, he’s not, so his plans changed. Rhett is smaller than Eclipse though they were born the same week. They are both Cowboy’s babies. As in any breed, there is a natural variation in size. Eclipse is large for a Nigerian Dwarf buck, and Rhett is on the small side. Nigerian Dwarf goats are a miniature breed, and for those who want them as pets, a small buck will make small babies–preferable for pet goats. Eclipse will make bigger babies, and for milkers, that will be preferable. Clover is a larger doe, so she will be bred to Eclipse. At one and a half, Nutmeg is turning out to be a small doe (if you don’t count her voluptuous girth), so she will be bred to Rhett. I think Nutmeg will handle Rhett’s babies more easily.
After letting the boys settle in a bit, I observed Clover’s clear receptiveness to Eclipse.
She let him whisper in her ear.
And lick her.
The tongue action is disgusting! Eclipse had been going nuts all day, making weird clicking noises and grunting and flashing his tongue like a nasty 70’s rock star. AND CLOVER LIKED IT. (The wench!)
Clover: “He’s younger than me. He seems quite energetic. I love me a boy toy!”
In all the nouveau farmer wisdom I possess, I figured we’d just let Clover in the goat pen and that little one (Rhett) would be no bother since it was obvious she and Eclipse had a thing going on and, after, all, Eclipse is bigger and must be top buck. Wow, that little one was on top of Clover faster than you could say horny. He looked like Rat Dog trying to climb Mount Coco. He ended up spending the rest of the afternoon crying at the top of his lungs in the goat house while Clover and Eclipse had a little tryst.
The tryst involved a lot of tongue and other disgusting behavior that I’ll (mostly) spare you.
If I were a better organized farmer, I would have had Nutmeg in the goat house with Rhett, but I’m not, so Rhett will have to await another day to see his love. Not that Nutmeg seems interested, unlike Clover, who couldn’t throw off her haughty attitude fast enough to leap into her lover’s arms. (Wench!)
Everyone watched. They’re all too young to watch.
I’m too young to watch.
I fear for Mr. Pibb’s innocence.
I fear for my innocence.
The grunting and groaning and huffing and spitting and something that sounded like downright sobbing went on for HOURS in the goat pen while Clover and Eclipse shared…..NASTY MOMENTS…..together. It was a warmish evening for January. We sat on the porch and….listened. Because we couldn’t help it. Because everyone in a 10-mile radius had to listen.
Me: “I think we need to get a Bible and read it to them! They need to be saved!”
52: “It’s far, far too late……”